


Peter Parkour and Sandwich the Wonder Dog

by WyldeSpiderRaptor



Series: Strands of Webbing (Spideychelle Oneshots) [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Service Animals, Ben Parker Lives, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Good Friend Ned Leeds, Loner Michelle Jones, Michelle Jones Is a Good Bro, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Peter Parker Does Parkour, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker has PTSD, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Ben Parker, Protective Michelle Jones, Service Animals, Service Dog Handler Peter Parker, Service Dog Sandwich (Spider-Man), Service Dogs, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25138036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyldeSpiderRaptor/pseuds/WyldeSpiderRaptor
Summary: In the fifteen years he was on earth, Peter Parker's life had been filled with trauma and therapy sessions. Despite his support system, he knows deep down he's still a far cry from the person he used to be ever since his mother was murdered.Everything in his life changes when he receives a service dog for his birthday and befriends Michelle Jones, who seems to have taken a liking to him as well.Spideychelle Bingo: Domestic Fic
Relationships: Ben Parker & May Parker (Spider-Man), Ben Parker & May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Ben Parker & Peter Parker, Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Sandwich the Dog (Marvel)
Series: Strands of Webbing (Spideychelle Oneshots) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820920
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Peter Parkour and Sandwich the Wonder Dog

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first of all; I freaking love service dog accounts on YouTube. I never know how I manage to stumble upon a service dog account/video on YouTube. I guess it's because I love watching the dogs do their job and act like actual babeys, idk.
> 
> Through some research on the ADA government website, and whatever facts are in the videos I watched, I tried my hardest at nailing this fic prompt, and I really hope you guys like it!

Peter Parker hardly had the luxury of living a good life.

His father had died in a plane crash when he was five, and his mother was murdered during a home invasion when he was eleven, leaving him with a scar along his throat.

He was a shy, timid child, never wanting to interact with too many people until he met Ned Leeds and Harley Keener in middle school.

His aunt May and uncle Ben started to take care of him after his mother died, but they were still very involved in his life when his mother was still alive.

The nightmares and anxiety attacks got worse over the years he stayed with his immediate family. Not even the two years filled with therapy sessions helped him get better.

He flung himself into robotics clubs, band, and even started training himself in parkour to try and cope with his past trauma, anxiety, and nightmares. Nothing had seemed to be helping, even the exhilarating feeling of backflipping off of skate ramps or walls and jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He loved doing parkour, especially when Harley or Ned got him doing all sorts of crazy stunts on film.

That was when a nine-month-old, scruffy mixed breed puppy was brought home on his fifteenth birthday.

He was a mix of greyish browns and pale tans with the brightest honey-brown eyes and the sweetest-looking face. His fluffy tail wagged in a circular motion, almost like a helicopter propeller, which Peter found both endearing and adorable all the same.

He couldn't stop the laugh from bubbling out of his mouth when Ben passed the oversized puppy to him. "He... He’s adorable..." He said, letting the excitable dog lick and nuzzle his face, large paws drooping over his shoulders.

"He’s all yours, Pete," his uncle said, chuckling. "The people at the service dog agency named him Sandwich."

Peter's copper eyes focused on Ben. "Wait. Service dog center?" He furrowed his brow before looking at the scruffy dog, Sandwich, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "You... He’s my service dog..?" He focused his attention back on his guardians, who smiled softly at him.

"We thought a service dog might be a better solution to help you, kiddo," May explained, gently rubbing Sandwich's ear.

Peter had seen the few service dog training manuals scattered around the apartment before, but he never thought much of it. He was too busy dealing with his PTSD and anxiety, along with his clubs and parkouring to pay much attention.

Sandwich looked up at his new handler with his sweet eyes and gently licked his chin, making him grin widely at him.

Slowly lowering himself to the ground with the dog still in his arms, Peter ruffled his fur, a teary smile tugging at his lips. "H..hey, Sandwich..." He said softly, watching him wag his tail and wiggle closer to him. "Hey, good boy..." He gently held the animal's face in his hands, as May and Ben sat down around them.

"You like him, Pete?" Ben asked gently, ruffling his hair.

Peter nodded, sniffling. "Thank you... Thank you so much..." He hugged his dog a little tighter, wanting him to be as close as possible to him.

The unshed tears in his eyes started to roll down his cheeks, as May and Ben wrapped their arms around him in a tight embrace, May's hand entangled in his unruly curls.

Peter nuzzled his face into Sandwich's neck, letting him lick and wag her tail against his knee.

For being a nine-month-old puppy, he reached Peter's calf while standing, and if he jumped on him, his paws were able to touch his chest, probably close to his collarbone. Just like any puppy, Sandwich was super playful and floppy, always bounding through the house after Peter, tail wagging in a circle.

Once Peter opened a box filled with all the necessities his new dog needed, including a service dog in training vest, Sandwich had calmed down and was happily lying at Peter's feet, a brand-new plush doughnut in between his paws.

"He’s only fifty percent trained to be a service dog, so we thought that maybe you wanted to train him?" Ben suggested, rubbing Peter's head.

"Me?" The boy lifted his gaze from Sandwich to his uncle.

May nodded. "Of course! We thought it would be better for you to train him instead of an instructor. It'll strengthen any relationship you guys will have."

Peter looked back down at Sandwich, who met his gaze with his large eyes. He smiled, rubbing his head.

"Yeah," he finally said, "I wouldn't mind doing that— training him, I mean. It sounds pretty fun."

Ben patted him on the shoulder, making him smile. "I think that'll help you, bud."

"I think so, too, Uncle Ben," his nephew responded confidently, patting his knee for Sandwich to sit up and rest his head on his leg, his tail wagging.

* * *

Training Sandwich became a natural thing for Peter to do every day. They spent two hours a day training him on how to do simple tasks a PTSD service dog needed to know.

Peter started to research ADA law and all th requirements that he needed to have so Sandwich could come along with him to school and general places every day. It wasn't hard, especially when he received help from some service dog videos on YouTube.

As soon as Monday rolled around, Sandwich was ready to come with him to his new school.

Peter had decided to transfer out of his current school, Visions Academy, when his uncle received an email from Midtown School of Science and Technology about a month in his current school. They offered him a scholarship and everything to get him to come.

Finally, Ben and May caved in and allowed him to go.

It seemed like such a good school, and Ned went there, so he wouldn't be alone.

The boy looked over the back of the passenger seat at his puppy, who was lazily resting in the backseat, his tail thumping when he noticed his master staring at him.

"Here we are, Pete. Midtown School of Science and Technology!" Ben announced, grinning at the large building.

It was almost as big as Vision's Academy, despite there being no dorm rooms to stay in five days a week. There were four stories of classrooms, a cafeteria, and hallways from what Peter guessed as Ben pulled up outside the school.

Across the street was a football and track field that Peter had no problem walking across to reach the brick building in case he needed to walk to school when Ben couldn't take him before his shift at the police prescient.

"Thanks, Uncle Ben," Peter said, his voice cracking when he put a strain on his vocal cords. He cleared his throat sheepishly, smiling a bit.

Ben ruffled his hair. "I'll pick you up after school, kiddo. Sound good?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Sounds good." He looked back at Sandwich, whose sweet eyes focused on his. "You ready to go, boy?"

The service dog in training sat up a bit in the backseat before Peter made a motion with his hand.

"Head down."

The dog instantly lowered his body to the seat, head in between his paws.

"Good boy," Peter praised, letting his uncle hug him before he grabbed his backpack and jumped out of the car to gather Sandwich.

"You have your ADA cards?" Ben asked, to which the teenager nodded.

"Yeah, in my backpack," he replied, grabbing Sandwich's leash. "C'mon, bud."

The dog jumped out, his new _Star Wars-themed_ vest and patches covering most of his body.

The police officer smiled. "You have a good day at school, Peter. And don't be afraid to tell someone off if they try to pet your dog."

Peter rolled his copper eyes, chuckling. "I won't, I promise."

"Tell them I'll arrest them," he added jokingly.

Peter barked out a hoarse laugh, then cleared his throat. "I'll see you later, Uncle Ben."

"I love you, Peter," Ben said honestly.

"Love you, too, Uncle Ben," his nephew replied, smiling. He closed the back door, then clicked his tongue for Sandwich to follow him. "C'mon, Sandwich."

Peter put one earbud in his ear, Sandwich's leash attached to a loop on the side of his belt, his bronze dog tag jingling.

"Peter!" Ned Leeds waved at his friend from near the entrance of the building.

Peter grinned. "Hey, Ned!"

Ned's eyes grew comically wide when he saw the boy's service dog. "Dude, you can bring a dog to school?!"

"Well, I mean, yeah, I can." Peter shrugged. "He's a service dog. I'm legally allowed to take him everywhere I go."

"When did you get him?" Ned asked as the two boys stepped inside the crowded hallway.

Peter ignored the stares he received and the few "aww"s people gave him. "Birthday present. The service dog training center named him Sandwich."

"Wow. You and Harley both have service dogs, and I'm stuck with a cranky old cat," Ned said, shaking his head.

"That's because we _need_ service dogs, Ned. Harley has high blood sugar and he needs Raider for that. While _I_ on the other hand..."

"Have a bunch of problems?"

Peter nodded. "Exactly."

Sandwich obediently sat at Peter's side, looking up at his handler with wide eyes, unless someone passed them, which Peter instantly corrected with a "focus" and a click of his tongue.

"Woah," Ned gasped, his eyes widening all over again.

"Harley taught me that one. He said it's important to have a service dog's attention on you at all times," the taller boy explained. "My PTSD episodes are...kinda unpredictable, so I've been working on him to keep his focus on me instead of other people around him."

Ned nodded understandingly. He knew how unpredictable Peter's PTSD was. He had a full-blown panic attack out-of-the-blue while they were watching _The Force Awakens_ and it took Ned a half-hour to calm him down.

Sandwich's focus was really good. He wasn't easily distracted, even with a few students noticing them and cooing over him.

"Oh my gosh, that is so cute!" Betty Brant cooed, her hands covering her mouth.

Peter gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Thanks.."

"Are you new here? I haven't seen you here before," Betty said, confused.

"Oh! Yeah, I just transferred here. I'm Peter Parker." He stuck his hand out for her to shake.

"Betty Brant. It's nice to meet you, Peter!" She grinned. "Who's your dog?"

"This is Sandwich, he's my service dog," The fifteen-year-old introduced, rubbing the dog behind his ears. "The, uh, service dog training agency named him that, not me."

"He's such a sweet dog!" She commented, watching Sandwich continue to stare up at his owner.

Before Peter could thank her again, a new voice cut in.

"Betty, leave the dog alone, it's clear that he's working."

Peter swallowed anxiously when a taller girl earing a chocolate beanie with two little pom-poms on top t look like bear ears, a green camo jacket, red t-shirt, dark grey leggings, and black and white Vans shoes walked towards them, backpack slung over her shoulder. He rubbed his arm, shyly ducking his head, just as Sandwich jumped on him and alerted him of his rapid heartbeat. "I know, buddy."

"Oh, hey, Michelle!" Betty greeted, smiling widely. "This is Peter! He just enrolled here!"

The girl, Michelle, focused on Peter, tilting her head. "Peter as in...?"

"Peter Parker." Peter lifted his head to meet her dark, cocoa eyes, sticking his hand out for her to shake.

"Michelle Jones, but my friends call me MJ. That is if I had any friends," Michelle responded, shaking his hand.

"'S nice to meet you," the fifteen-year-old said shyly.

"You, too, I guess," she replied nonchalantly, glancing down at Sandwich. "Who's the dog?"

"Sandwich. He's my service dog," Peter responded truthfully.

Michelle raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You named your dog 'Sandwich'?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Well, the service dog agency did. I didn't have any say in what he was named," he admitted.

The girl didn't do anything but nod in response with a simple, "Nice", and nothing else.

Peter didn't mind too much. He simply smiled before the bell went off to alert the students that the school day had begun.

"What's your first class?" Ned asked, elbowing his friend in the side.

"Oh. Uh, I need to go to the front desk to get my schedule..." He rubbed his arm awkwardly, noticing the glare Michelle sent Cindy Moon when she pointed to Sandwich, her and her friend's gazes lingering on the service dog.

"I'll take you to the office, Parker," she offered coolly.

"Really?" Peter blinked, surprised and a bit grateful.

"I mean, yeah, I don't have much to do in first period anyway," she responded. "You two lovebirds head to class, I'll take it from here."

"Thanks, Michelle!" Ned called, already slipping his hand into Betty's, causing the girl to giggle.

Peter watched them walk off, tilting his head. "How long have they been a thing?"

"A week," Michelle responded bluntly. "They sat next to each other on a Decathlon trip, and instantly declared themselves 'perfect boyfriend, girlfriend' material."

The service dog handler barked out a laugh, shaking his head. "That sounds like Ned to me."

"He hooks up with someone and then breaks up with them a week later?" Michelle quirked an eyebrow at the shorter boy, walking next to him to take him to the front office.

"No, that sounds more like Harry Osborn," Peter explained, Sandwich trotting right next to him. "He's always bouncing from one person to the next. I'm just saying that Ned's always fantasized about having a high school sweetheart and all that."

Michelle nodded wistfully. "Hm."

"Awww! Cute dog!" Gwen Stacy called out as she passed the two of them.

Peter gave her a shy smile, continuing to walk. "Thank you.."

"That normal for you?"

He swiveled his head to focus on the taller girl. "Huh?"

"People commenting on your dog," she said. "I thought most handlers didn't like that."

"Oh, well, I don't mind it too much," Peter explained. "I think a lot of handlers tolerate the 'oh, your dog's so cute' comments, but they don't tolerate people asking to pet the dog or just...coming up to it with their ESAs."

"ESA?" Michelle looked a bit confused.

"Emotional support animal," Peter corrected. "They're not considered official service dogs if they don't help with a medical task."

"So people just strap a vest around their dog and carry it around everywhere with them and call it a service dog?" The girl asked, to which Peter nodded.

"Yeah, exactly. This one guy ended up bringing this huge Rottweiler into the store I was in, and he was acting super aggressive towards Sandwich," Peter explained. "I ended up freaking myself out so badly that I ended up having to leave."

"Did you tell security?" Michelle asked, shoving the front office door open.

"Yeah, my uncle did," Peter said in a hushed voice, not wanting to attract attention. "Pretty sure they were kicked out."

"Good." She strode towards th front desk with a purpose, Peter obediently trailing behind her with his dog. "You have a schedule for Peter Parker?" She asked, just as Sandwich sneezed when the strong air freshener aggravated his nose.

Peter crouched down to rub his dog's head, chuckling. "Bless you."

"Mr. Parker?" Mrs. Connors peered over her librarian glasses at the fifteen-year-old. "Do you have registration papers for that service animal?"

Peter stood up, rubbing his arm shyly. "A-actually, there's no such thing as registration papers..."

The woman raised an eyebrow before looking over the front desk at Sandwich, who obediently sat at Peter's side, his unwavering focus on his owner. "If you don't have any registration, then I'll have to send you to the principal's office."

While she talked, Peter pulled a little stack of business cards out of his backpack. ADA Law cards.

"I-it says here that 'businesses may not require special identification for the animal'," he read off. "That's from the ADA government's website." He handed her the card before clicking his tongue at Sandwich. "Focus. Good boy."

Michelle silently listened in slight awe when Peter began to explain that registration papers for service dogs were illegal, which was why he didn't need them.

"You can keep the card if you want," He said politely when Mrs. Connors tried to pass it back to him. "I have a whole stack."

"Well, thank you," Mrs. Connors replied. "I didn't know a lot of this stuff. You did a lot of research on this, didn't you?"

"Yeah... Well, my aunt and uncle had a hand in it, too," Peter replied, smiling earnestly.

"Well, if anyone gives you some trouble with your dog, don't be afraid to come to me if you need anything," she offered, handing him a piece of paper with his schedule printed on it.

He smiled, thanking her again before he and Michelle exited the room.

"You handled that surprisingly well," Michelle commented, nudging the shorter boy in the shoulder.

He rubbed the back of his head, laughing sheepishly. "Thanks... I, uh... I've had a lot of practice..." He admitted, a soft blush accenting to his cheeks.

He allowed Michelle to lead him around the school to show him where every classroom was, even going as far as shooting glares at anyone who tried to distract Sandwich in any way that could potentially cause him to miss an alert for a panic attack or elevated heart rate.

"Thanks for, uh... Thanks for showing me around," Peter said after a moment of silence, smiling politely at her.

Michelle shrugged him off with a nudge to the shoulder. "Meh. It was nothing, loser."

Peter rubbed his arm, avoiding her gaze, a flustered smile on his face.

He suspected he was going to like being at Midtown after meeting her.

* * *

Michelle had no idea what she was doing after deciding to, stupidly, walk past the new kid, Peter Parker, and two of her peers.

So what if she had also seen the dog and got curious? There was no harm in that. It was the first time a service dog was seen at Midtown, anyway.

To say Michelle had friends was a lie. She never willed herself to get close to anyone after her father walked out on her and her family. Sure Liz had gotten her to open up a smidge, but that was before she was forced to move after her father was arrested.

But when her eyes locked onto the copper puppy-dog eyes and messy chocolate hair of the shy, dorky boy in front of her that day, the urge to open up her cold, loner exterior was too strong.

For the most part, she was good about keeping her distance with Peter Parker. She suspected if she stayed aloof and didn't show too much emotion that he would soon give up trying to become her friend.

Unfortunately, that pesky idiot didn't seem to get the hint that she wasn't looking for a friend.

Despite being the captain of the decathlon team at Midtown and having to deal with douchebags like Flash Thompson and cocky jocks like Brad Davis, Peter was always somewhere close by, the click of Sandwich's nails always present in her mind from how many times she heard his trotting gait when Peter fought against the crowd to catch up to her.

She always wondered why she never told him to scram or leave her alone, even as he was following her into the library to eat his packed lunch after Ned and Betty vanished to do...whatever it was that they did after they started dating each day.

A part of her told her that she could allow him to get close, just like Liz had, that someone could call her "MJ" again without her snapping to correct them, pretty much telling her that Peter was okay to trust.

The one thing she always found that was annoying endearing was the way he patiently listened to her go on and on about her favorite unsolved murder cases, or how "boh" was the best Italian word to date. He was just...good like that. Watching her with his earnest puppy eyes, his actual dog lying in his lap to provide what he had told her was called "deep pressure therapy" to help relax him, never once stopping her or getting up to leave if she made him the slightest bit uncomfortable...

What in the world did someone like Peter Parker see in her to hang around so much?

Despite her shooting a glare or flipping anyone off when it came to trying to gain Sandwich's attention or shoving Flash Thompson away when he felt it was an appropriate time to call Peter nasty words out of spite and jealousy of his higher IQ, she didn't expect Peter to have much to do with her.

But he _did_. Because he was just _good_. He was such a good person, always thinking of others before himself, especially people he considered friends.

"Michelle!" Peter called from the entrance to one classroom, waving his arm high above the crowd of students, a large smile on his face.

The taller girl rolled her eyes but walked towards him, hugging _Of Human Bondage_ to her chest. "'Sup, loser?"

"I wanted to show you something!" He said, rocking on the balls of his feet, Sandwich sitting next to him. He pulled up something on his phone before handing it to her. "What do you think?"

On his bright screen was a YouTube channel, but it wasn't one she had heard before. The channel was titled "PeterParkour&SandwichTheWonderDog", a few video thumbnails instantly popping up under the name that either focused on service dog outings or parkour stunts.

"You have a YouTube account?" Michelle finally asked, to which Peter nodded shyly in response.

"Yeah. One of my other friends and I designed it over the weekend," he explained before his face fell when he instantly realized what he had indirectly called her. "I-I mean... I...I know you're probably not comfortable with being called my friend but—" he paused his rambling when he felt his breathing pick up, just as Sandwich jumped up on him to alert him of his elevated heart rate.

"Let's find you a place to go sit, Parker," Michelle said, leading him away from the crowd of students and into the library, where he instantly nestled into his usual spot on a bean bag chair, Sandwich lying down over his lap, his head resting against his chest through the boy's bulky sweatshirt.

"Thanks, Michelle..." Peter mumbled sheepishly, his cheeks tinted pink.

"MJ."

He glanced over at the girl to see her shoulder pressed to his, her knees up to prop her book as she began to flip through the pages to reach where she put her bookmark last. "Huh?"

"My friends call me MJ," Michelle responded nonchalantly, unable to miss the large grin that spread across Peter's face.

"Okay... MJ." He grinned at her, making her cheeks heat up when they both made brief eye contact before focusing on either their book or lunch.

* * *

"What'cha watching, Jonesie?" Felicia Hardy planted her elbows on the mahogany table of the library before school started, MJ sitting in the chair next to her, eyes fixated on a parkour/service dog video Peter had uploaded to his YouTube over the weekend.

Upon hearing the green-eyed girl's sly voice, Michelle instantly closed the link on the laptop before she could get a good glimpse at the incredibly talented dork she grew accustomed to hanging out with.

"Nothing, Felicia," she said as nonchalantly as possible, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her bear beanie firmly planted over her head.

"Didn't seem like nothing to me," the older girl chuckled in response to Michelle's awkward, yet blunt response.

MJ rolled her dark, cocoa eyes, both girls looking up towards the library entrance when they heard the door creak open.

A well-rested Sandwich happily trotted at a clearly exhausted Peter's side, his backpack straps clenched in a white-knuckle grip.

His head was down, his face looked ashen and his eyes were rimmed red. He honestly looked like he didn't get a wink of sleep.

"I'll leave you alone with your boyfriend, Emmy," Felicia crooned, side-stepping away from Michelle's foot before it could stomp hers.

Peter barely glanced up at where Felicia had just left, choosing to slump into the chair next to his friend, resting his head in his arms on the table.

"Peter?" Michelle gently placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

His breathing hitched before a small, barely audible sob ripped open his mouth.

Michelle knew of his PTSD attacks thanks to Ned, but she never experienced one—if this even _was_ one—on her own. She knew his attacks consisted of Sandwich performing DPT and a lot of hyperventilating with pats on the back from Harley and Ned, but never panicked, terrified sobbing.

Scooting her chair closer, as Sandwich sadly rested his front paws and head in Peter's lap, MJ pulled the shorter boy into an awkward embrace to allow him to calm down before school started.

"I know I'm not the best at this sort of stuff, but... Are you okay?" She asked in a hushed voice once Peter's sobs subsided into small hiccups.

"M-my uncle was shot last night..." He murmured into her shoulder. "H-he was rushed into surgery, b-but he's still in critical condition— MJ, I can't lose another parent, I _can't_ ," he whimpered, gripping onto her bulky, olive green jacket, his tears dampening the crook of her neck.

"From what you've told me about your uncle, Peter... I highly doubt a bullet wound's gonna take him out without a hell of a fight, understand?"

Peter sniffled, starting to relax when he felt the girl's hand rub soothing circles into his back through his oversized Midtown sweatshirt. "'M sorry I got you all wet...."

"Don't apologize for being worried, dweeb," Michelle murmured, exhaling a soft sigh. She suddenly stood up, one arm over Peter's shoulders. "Why don't you and I get out of here for a bit, yeah? I bet school's the last place you'd wanna be at right now."

Peter rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. "You-you mean ditch?" He asked, genuinely confused.

 _This idiot will be the death of me_ — "I mean... Yeah. Unless you don't want to..." Michelle awkwardly trailed off, just before Peter started nodding his head rapidly.

"Yeah. I'd like that. To get out of here, I mean." He smiled, unshed tears still stinging his bright, earnest eyes, which made Michelle want to do _anything_ to prevent herself from seeing him like that again.

His voice was broken and scratchy like he had strained it too much, but she had a suspicion the raised scar along his throat was most likely to blame.

Slipping past Principal Morita and any of the other students, Michelle led Peter and Sandwich out through a side door and into the courtyard where the track team, cheerleading squad, and the football players trained.

The two teenagers walked straight towards the main entrance and then down the sidewalk before anyone could see them and get suspicious.

Neither of them spoke a word to each other, simply preferring to walk in comfortable silence until they reached a small diner, the Square Diner, across the street from MJ's favorite bookstore, Undercover Books.

"I hear this place is probably the best to get breakfast from," she said, leading Peter and Sandwich across the street to reach the building.

Peter looked up at the sign, then looked at the service animal sign to make sure he was still abiding by the law with bringing Sandwich with him. "I don't think I've ever been here before," he finally admitted.

Michelle looked inside through the window at the quaint little place. "I don't think I have, either," she also admitted.

She and Peter both reached for the door at the same time before laughing awkwardly when their hands brushed.  
"Here. Lemme just..." Peter pushed the door open with his shoulder, Sandwich still at his side. Keeping it open with his foot, he allowed MJ to step inside the small room in between the entrance door and the door leading to inside the restaurant.

Michelle reached for the second door, this time allowing Peter to step in first, who awkwardly thanked her with a scratchy voice and timid smile.

Both of them ended up getting breakfast and Michelle spent the entire day trying to distract Peter from the critical condition of his uncle in the hospital.

She did everything in her power that day to see him smile again.

They went to Peter's favorite sandwich shop to get lunch, followed by a trip to the ice cream parlor right after.

He started to confide in her about certain incidents in his life that led up to the day he got Sandwich, such as his parents' deaths, the minimal vocal damage his throat received from being slashed on the same night his mother was murdered, and all the therapy he was forced to endure.

Somewhere deep inside her told her that Peter probably never openly shared this with anyone, not even Ned or Harley. It made her feel...wanted while he opened up to her.

She liked that feeling.

"Hey, so, uh... When my uncle gets out of the hospital... I was wondering if you'd like to hang out with me and my friends after school sometime?" Peter asked one day while he and MJ were sitting under a shady tree at Battery Park, Sandwich stretched out on his side, asleep.

Michelle looked up from sketching the dog's relaxed pose with wide, dark eyes. "You want me to join your nerd squad, Parker?" She asked, a bit surprised.

"W-well, I mean, you don't—y'know— _ have _ to..." Peter rambled awkwardly, his cheeks flushed pink.

"Relax, loser, I'm just messing with you," she said coolly. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you guys. If you want me to."

"Yeah. I'd— I'd like that a lot...." Peter rubbed his arm shyly, a bit flustered.

Michelle smiled at his innocent look, gently bumping her shoulder against his. "Me, too."

* * *

Peter found that decathlon was pretty fun, although he had to deal with Flash Thompson giving him glares whenever he got an answer correct or when he'd attempt to trip him in the halls.

He didn't mind Flash's torment so much. He dealt with much worse in his life than a few insults, anyway.

The only big problem he had with decathlon was Brad Davis.

Brad wasn't the type of person to join decathlon. He was a jock who was on the basketball team and every girl in school swooned over him.

He had been working on his chemistry homework while MJ focused on drilling some of the slackers—mostly Flash—on her team on certain questions they frequently missed when Felicia Hardy slipped into the chair next to him.

"You're with the service dog, aren't ya?" She asked, her cheek pressed to her palm, silver curls cascading down her shoulders and back.

Peter looked up from his paper and nodded. "Yeah, that's me." He smiled shyly before glancing back at Michelle, who made Flash shrink away with a cold glare etched on his face.

"You've got a thing for Jonesie now, do ya?" Felicia grinned slyly, which made Peter's face flush a bright scarlet.

"What?! No! I don't— wh-why would you think that...?" He stammered in a hushed voice so he didn't attract any unwanted attention from his teammates.

"Jus' making sure, Petey Boy," she replied, twirling a lock of hair around her pale finger. "I heard Davis say he was hopin' to ask her out sometime this week."

Peter frowned at that, a bit angry. "What?"

Felicia noticed the instant shadow of jealousy that passed over his face. "You better make your move if you wanna get your lady, Parker," she crooned, trailing a finger across his sternum before standing up.

Peter ignored the shiver running down his spine, choosing to focus on his work than trying to think about Brad asking MJ out on a date.

He glanced back at her with his eyes, and he could see the firm glare on her face as her cocoa eyes trailed Felicia as she left.

She saw their interaction.

Upon that realization, panic suddenly settled deep in his gut, his heart rising in his throat.

_ Not now, not now! _ He silently begged as Sandwich jumped to his feet, pawing at his arm and trying to nuzzle his way into his handler's lap.

"Peter?"

Peter could distinctively hear Michelle's voice through his panicked heart thumping in his ears; he could see her shield him from the other decathlon members as she led him out into the hallway.

Sandwich wormed his way into a tight hug from the fifteen-year-old, licking his face and nuzzling his neck.

"Peter. C'mon, loser, focus on me," MJ said softly, gently holding her friend's face in her hands until his unfocused eyes met hers.

"MJ...?" He croaked, his voice cracking harshly from the strain on his vocal cords.

"Right here, loser..." She smiled her signature, nonchalant smirk, gently brushing his bangs out of his face. "You wanna tell me what set you off?"

Peter shrugged, unconsciously reaching up to grasp at her wrist. "I guess everything... I-I know my uncle's doing a bit better, but I'm still scared, y'know...? I-I mean, I lost my parents... I don't want to lose him or May, too..."

"Yeah, I know, loser..." She pulled him closer to her with an arm over his shoulders.

"Peter? Michelle?" Ned, who had come out from the robotics classroom, noticed the two teenagers huddled on the floor of the hallway and instantly rushed towards them. "Hey, is everything okay?" He asked, a bit concerned.

"Yeah, we're okay..." Peter said, giving his friend a strained smile. "'S all good..."

Ned didn't fully believe him, knowing already by the way Sandwich was snuggled against his body and how Michelle was gently rubbing her thumb over his shoulder that his friend had a panic attack and needed emotional support.

Peter wrapped his arms around both of his friends when they hugged him and his dog, his eyes squeezing shut to help him bask in the soothing feeling of safety.

"Thank you..." He said, his broken voice cracking at the first word.

Michelle thumped her head against his, sighing. "You're welcome, loser..."

They sat there silently, arms still wrapped around Peter's smaller body, letting him calm down from his panic attack before returning to their respected clubs.

* * *

MJ kept a closer eye on Peter after that when she wasn't grilling him for answers on decathlon. Something Felicia had said had definitely bothered him, but she was too far away to hear what it was. She didn't think it was appropriate to press him and ask what she was saying, so she didn't bring it up.

She noticed that Peter had started sticking closer to her as well, mostly around Brad Davis.

She noticed the instant fire of jealousy in his eyes whenever Brad stopped to talk to her or offer to walk her to class or take her home. She could feel how Peter would tense up next to her when their shoulders brushed, and she could see the glare on his face in her peripheral vision.

Honestly... He looked kind of cute when he was mad, kind of like an angry puppy.

"You don't like Brad, do you, Parker?" She asked during lunch that same day. "I mean, I'm only sixty-seven percent sure, but still."

Peter didn't outright deny it as he would've with Ned or Harley. He knew better than to lie to Michelle. She always caught him in a lie no matter how hard he tried to stay nonchalant about it.

"He's always staring at your ass or something, so I have a right to dislike him," he said without a hint of bitterness in his voice. Just calm nonchalance with a shrug of his shoulders.

MJ quirked an eyebrow. "He's  _ what _ ?"

Peter lifted his gaze from his questionable cafeteria food to look at her, honesty written all over his face. "Yeah... I've had half a mind to flip him off. Unless you want to," he said hastily, rubbing the back of his neck shyly.

Michelle smiled, draping an arm over his shoulders and pulling him closer. "You're too good, Parker, y'know that? Way too good for your own good."

Peter grinned at her, nuzzling his head against her arm's socket out of instinct. "Thanks, MJ."

She didn't make any move to push him away. "No problem, loser."

Now that she knew why Brad was trying to convince her to let him walk her home or to her next class, she stuck closer to Peter, especially when he was around. She always claimed that she just wanted to see him flip the other boy off, but in reality...that wasn't true.

Every time she saw Peter, her stomach would fill up with butterflies and she'd feel all mushy and vulnerable when he smiled at her, Sandwich staring up at her with those honey-brown eyes of his, oblivious to how she was feeling. She started to hang out with Peter and his other friends outside of school, which wasn't usual for her since she'd always be alone after school, unwilling to impose on the social life Peter had that she didn't.

But like the golden-hearted dumbass he was, he'd always let her tag along with him, Ned and Harley.

They frequented their coffee shop meetups or trips to the skatepark to witness Peter backflip over the dips in the structure, MJ's eyes struggling to remain on the video camera in her hand rather than the way his shirt would usually ride up when he was in the air.

For being fifteen, wracked with PTSD and anxiety, Peter Parker was full of surprises.

"Not bad, Peter Parkour," Michelle commented, tossing him a bottle of water after he performed a back handspring into a flip during one of their near-daily meetups. This time, she had met Peter at the park for a barbeque a few friends of his aunt and uncle were hosting

Sandwich lazily wagged his tail, shimmying into Peter's lap when he plopped down next to the taller girl.

"Thanks," he panted, instantly guzzling down the cool liquid. He looked over to where Ben, who was confined to a wheelchair for a bit while he recovered outside the hospital, and May were conversing with friends with a smile on his face.

"I see your uncle's doing better," MJ commented, nudging him with her elbow.

"Yeah... I'm really glad he's doing better," Peter replied, smiling brightly.

"Hey, Michelle!" Brad greeted, grinning from ear-to-ear. His face fell briefly when he noticed Peter and his dog before he focused on the girl again. "I was wondering if you wanted to go find some coffee or something? You like decaf, right?"

"Expresso, actually, but you were close," Peter quipped, knocking his shoulder against MJ's, which made butterflies flitter around in her stomach.

Brad's eyes flickered towards Peter and then down at Sandwich. "Oh, hey, Peter. When did you show up?" He asked with a forced, friendly tone.

"I've been here for a while, actually. Thanks for wondering." He absent-mindedly rubbed Sandwich's head, making the dog's tail wag. "Y'know, if you don't have anything better to do, you can stop trying to look down her shirt."

MJ whipped her head around to see the smug look on Peter's face as Brad spluttered in embarrassment.

"What?! No! I wasn't— oh, come on, Peter. You think I'd do something like that?" Brad challenged, as the shorter boy stood up fearlessly, Sandwich at his side, MJ following his lead.

"I mean, yeah," Peter said, discreetly slipping his hand into Michelle's, who gently squeezed it. "I mean, you've been staring at her butt in the halls, so it's pretty believable."

Brad's face contorted into a look of absolute fury. He stuttered, trying to get a word out before clenching his fists. "I oughta stick my foot up your ass!" He growled out.

Peter stood as still as possible, preparing for the inevitable punch, just as Michelle slung an arm over his shoulders, pulling him close against her.  
"He and the dog are off-limits," she stated bluntly. She gave the taller boy a sweet smile. "Nice seeing you, Brad."

The two walked farther from Brad, Peter risking a glance over his shoulder to flip him off.

"You're awful, Parker," Michelle said, smacking him upside the head.

Peter laughed, knowing she was merely joking, as they found another tree to sit under, closer to the Battery Park fountain.

Sandwich gently bumped Peter with his nose when he alerted him of his high heart rate, which made him smile and allow Sandwich to crawl into his lap to calm him down.

MJ leaned back against the large trunk of the tree, her fingers brushing over Peter's before gripping his hand completely.

Brain short-circuiting, he turned to look at her, a bit flustered and shy. He smiled, his cheeks turning pink. "Hi.."

Michelle gently pressed her forehead to his. "Hey, loser..."

"Brad can suck it," Peter snickered, as Michelle barked out a laugh in reply, gently brushing his bangs from his face.

"You're a loser," she said in between laughs.

"Thank you," Peter replied, grinning cheekily.

They both fell silent, just as Michelle planted a soft kiss on his cheek before she lost the only sliver of confidence she had that made her do it.

When she pulled away to study his face, Peter's eyes were blown wide in surprise, an awed smile slowly tugging on the corners of his lips.

"You...you kissed me..." He murmured, sounding a bit breathless. He tilted his head, smiling widely at her.

"I don't have much luck when it comes to getting close to people... But... I thought that would've been appropriate to do..."

"Just to screw with Brad, right?" A smug smile formed on Peter's face.

"Yes, and... I really like you..." She murmured the last part, never feeling this vulnerable or exposed before.

"I really like you, too..." Peter admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact with her.

MJ managed to make eye contact with him, a shy smile on her face. She leaned closer to him, both her and Peter wanting to close the space between them, just as Sandwich lifted his head.

He woofed happily, staring to nuzzle Peter's face right before he could kiss MJ properly.

The two of them started laughing as Peter unclipped the dog's vest to allow MJ to pet him.

Sure, Peter was a bit damaged, he was a bit broken, but that was how MJ liked him.

She always liked things better broken.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished this! The draft was going to be deleted next week, so I was freaking out trying to get it done, lol.
> 
> I did a lot of research on PTSD service dogs that military veterans are sometimes paired up with after they finish serving time overseas, so I applied a lot of their commands to Sandwich's training. Again, I'm really sorry if I got anything inaccurate since I don't have/need a service dog of my own and I solely based Sandwich's training on research.


End file.
